


We Could Have Forever Again

by pietromavximoff



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Marauders Era - Fandom, Wolfstar - Fandom, jily - Fandom, marauders - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietromavximoff/pseuds/pietromavximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of Sirius things during the Marauder's time at Hogwarts, and after</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Have Forever Again

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanna say I used few headcanons I found on tumblr, so credit to you guys!

Sirius is eight, and he’s crouched down under the kitchen table, breathless, hiding from his brother as he hears his mother’s harsh voice cut through the quiet house, yelling not to run, followed by his brother’s laughter, because he’s six, and he doesn’t understand like Sirius does that when their mother yells, it’s not a game.

Sirius is eleven, and he feels his heart racing as his name is called, his fingers shaking as he feels the weight of the sorting hat on his head, feels his stomach twisting in fear when he hears “Gryffindor!” echo through the Great Hall, followed by an eruption of cheering. He feels sick at the thought of writing home. He doesn’t write home for a few weeks, but it’s worse than he expected when he does.

Sirius is eleven, and he laughs at James, the boy he met on the train, when he trips over the moving staircases on the way to Transfiguration. He laughs even harder when James pulls him onto the moving staircase with him. They’re both late to class, but something about the way James looks at him and likes him without question makes Sirius not mind.

Sirius is twelve, and trying not to think about the holidays he just spent at home. He tries not to think about his mother yelling or Regulus’ scared looks when he raised his voice back at her. Sirius tells her he has friends in Gryffindor. She laughs and doubts him, and Sirius doubts himself, too.

Sirius is twelve, and Remus hugs him when he starts to shake at the mention of his parents. Sirius wants to hug him back, because sometimes he see the way Remus looks at himself in the mirror and traces the scars on his face with disgust in his eyes, but Sirius think about it too much and he lets him go.

Sirius is twelve, and he sees James ruffle his black hair untidily when the girl with red hair walks past holding her books, her wand tucked behind her ear. He sees the way James looks at her when she answers a question in Herbology and he smiles to himself, because he knows before either of them do.

Sirius is twelve, and he and his friends watch with suspicion as Remus stammers that he has to go visit his mother once again. He says she’s sick, but Sirius has grown to know the way he looks down and fidgets with his hands when he lies, and, like last week when he told Professor McGonagall he didn’t know who had stolen the pumpkin juice from the kitchens, even though he was under James’ invisibility cloak when he did, Sirius sees the way he won’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Sirius is twelve, and Remus has left the castle, and he, James and Peter widen their eyes when they come across a book about magical creatures. Sirius takes it out of the library and re-reads the chapter about werewolves again and again. He can’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to James tugging the book from his tight grip, and they share a grin because they’ve figured it out.

Sirius is twelve, and they’ve told Remus they know he’s a werewolf. He says it in an offhand, casual tone, and he sees the fear in Remus’ eyes. Sirius hugs him quickly, reassuringly, and he hears Remus’ gasp of shock at their unquestioning acceptance. And maybe it’s because Sirius has pinned Remus’ arms to his sides, maybe that’s why he doesn’t move them, but Sirius knows Remus doesn’t hug back because he’s still too scared to. And he smiles, because there was a time when he couldn’t hug him back, either.

Sirius is thirteen, and he watches with heavy eyes as Regulus waits in front of the school to be sorted. He feels an odd sort of emptiness as he claps along with the rest when he’s sorted into Slytherin, and he tries to catch his brother’s eye but he looks away. Sirius thinks of the Gryffindor banners he’s stuck magically onto the walls in his room, and he thinks of the ones he hid in his trunk to give to Regulus. That night, he throws them into the fire in the common room, thinking bitterly of how proud their parents will be when his brother writes home.

Sirius is fourteen, and he looks at Remus for much too long. He wonders, during Defence Against The Dark Arts, how his scars would feel under his touch, and during breakfast, he thinks about how Remus bites the skin around his fingers when he’s nervous. He’s occupying Sirius’ thoughts, more and more these days. He wonders what Remus would say if he knew. He lets the thoughts keep coming.

Sirius is fourteen, and he walks past his brother in between classes, and he pretends not to hear Sirius when he calls his name. He hears James telling him his parents invited him over for Christmas, and Sirius tries to concentrate on the time he heard Regulus telling his friends he was a traitor, and he feels better.

Sirius is fifteen, and he laughs in disbelief when they finally become Animagi. When he tells Remus that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore when he transforms, Remus turns away from him and pretends like he doesn’t have tears in his eyes. When he turns back around with a huge smile, Sirius catch James’ eye and they both pretend like the tears aren’t there, either.

Sirius is fifteen, and he catches the red headed girl his best mate fancies crying at the bottom of the stairs of the girl’s dormitories, clutching a letter in her unsteady hands. He remembers hearing about how her sister hates her, and he sits next to her and she looks at him with huge, tear-stained eyes, and she doesn’t say anything. Something about the way she looks at him tells Sirius she knows all about the divide between him and his brother, and they sit there in silence together.

Sirius is fifteen, and sitting in a pub in Hogsmede, surrounded by friends drinking Butterbeer. He and James are laughing about the holidays past, when Sirius tried to magically light up the Christmas tree and accidently set it on fire. James’ mother told him off, but she had a warm voice and made him clean up his mess. Sirius thinks about how she makes her son clean up after himself, too, and he smiles.

Sirius is fifteen, and he’s packing up slowly after Transfiguration because Remus is talking to McGonagall about exams. When he’s done, Sirius follows him out into the empty hallway. Remus laughs at something he says and when Sirius turns to look at him, he’s closer than he thought he was. He leans in slightly and Remus closes the gap between their lips and all Sirius knows is the way he tastes faintly of blueberries from breakfast and the way he smells like honey and parchment. Later, in the common room, when everyone’s sitting around the fire studying, Sirius catches Remus’ gaze and grins. He grins back, and they don’t need words.

Sirius is sixteen, and he’s run away from home. He goes to James’ house and he doesn’t ask a single question when he sees Sirius has brought a suitcase full of things. He stays there for the summer and he feels himself beam when James’ parents ask him if he has a photo of himself as a baby so they can put it next to James’ on the mantelpiece. Mrs Potter accidently calls him James more than once and it makes him smile wider.

Sirius is sixteen, and a girl in his year asks him to go to Hogsmede with her. She’s very pretty but it’s easy for him to say no. He gets tired of how people whisper as he walks past about the rumours they hear about him and Remus. Remus has heard them too, and maybe it’s because the full moon is approaching, but he seems more down than usual. So Sirius laces his fingers around Remus’ one morning and as they both walk past the tables in the Great Hall and hear the gasps of surprise and quick murmuring, Sirius grins wildly, and Remus does too.

Sirius is seventeen, and the stories of disappearances and families getting murdered are becoming more constant. He sees a boy in his Charms class get pulled out halfway through the lesson. Later, he sees him packing his things. In the common room, Lily tells Sirius his parents were murdered because they were both muggle-born. Sirius sees the way James’ clutches her hand tightly as it hangs across the couch. No-one knows what to say.

Sirius is seventeen, and he’s wondering which shot of Firewhiskey was the one that made everything blurry. The common room is alight with flashing Quidditch banners and the sound of laughter. He stands on the table and waits for quiet before he says with words that crash together on their way out – that he’s in love with a boy that can’t heal his own scars so he heals everyone else’s. Sirius hears the whooping from James as he pushes Remus up onto the table with him and Sirius sees the tears in Remus’ eyes as he laughs in amazement. Sirius doesn’t need to think when Remus pulls him in and their lips crash together with bruising pressure. He doesn’t need to think when he dips Remus in his arms and hears the yells of encouragement and whistles from their peers. He doesn’t need to think after they finally break apart and Remus asks Sirius if he really loves him. He does. Of course he does.

Sirius is eighteen and he runs into his brother. Regulus has black bags under his eyes and his voice shakes when he talks. Sirius has heard the rumours about him being a Death Eater, and it makes him sick to think about their mother approving his interest in the dark arts. He wants to help but he doesn’t know how. They go their separate ways.

Sirius is nineteen, and he’s making a speech at his best friend’s wedding. He watches the way James and Lily look at each other and he ignores the feeling of dread in his chest, because news about the upcoming war hasn’t been getting better. _We’re all going to live,_ he tells himself. _We’re all going to make it out alive._

Sirius is nineteen, and he’s helping move furniture into James and Lily’s new house. They look at each other and it’s the most obvious thing in the world – they’re in love. Sirius laughs when he hears the pet name Lily calls James and they tease Sirius that he’s no better with Remus. He thinks of Remus and something stirs inside him. It’s a part of him that didn’t exist before Remus and won’t exist after him. Sirius shakes his head. There is no after Remus.

Sirius is nineteen, and they’re out celebrating the announcement that Lily’s pregnant. His happiness only dulls when he catches sight of the headline of the newspaper sitting on the table opposite them. For the rest of the night, he can’t get the words disappearance, murder and Voldemort out of his head.

Sirius is nineteen, and he’s helping Lily cross into the kitchen. She rolls her eyes and tells him to stop being silly, that she can handle being eight months pregnant, but he won’t let her go until she’s safely at her destination. Sirius knows it’s silly, but it’s about the only kind of safety he feels he can guarantee. James watches him with heavy eyes, because he’s developed the same kind of habit.

Sirius is twenty, and looking down at his godson. It’s snowing out and he’s got a tiny, warm hand around Sirius’ finger and James and Lily are grinning. He forgets about the upcoming war for a while and he calls the baby Bambi, and everyone laughs.

Sirius is twenty, and he’s looking at Remus guardedly. His scars have faded slightly, but he still looks as worn out as the day they met. His eyes are wide, and they’re both too paranoid to think straight. Sirius wraps his arms around him and as they hold each other, they both whisper promises that they’d never betray each other, much less James and Lily.

Sirius is twenty, and he’s crying with disbelief, throat closing as he reads the words on the letter. He can’t remember the last thing he said to his brother. He remembers a time, so long ago, when Regulus would sneak into his room and Sirius would tell him stories about Hogwarts, exaggerations of what little he knew after his first year, and he’d listen with admiration, his eyes wide as he thought of the future.

Sirius is twenty-one, and he’s staring at a photo of a one-year old boy zooming around on the toy broomstick he sent him. He grins at the photo and feels a stab in his heart because he wasn’t there. The Order comes first, Sirius tells himself, as he watches James’ laughing face look to his son, then to the camera, but he wants to see them again so bad that it gets hard to remember that sometimes.

Sirius is twenty-two, and his hands are shaking as James and Lily ask him to be their Secret-Keeper. He nods automatically, hearing the words _of course_ slip from his lips. There’s nothing to consider. They’re his family. Lily cries and hugs Sirius, wetting his shoulder with tears. James stays still, searching his eyes and silently telling him what words can’t.

Sirius is twenty-two and more paranoid than ever. He watches with narrowed eyes as people walk past him, a racing heart when people speak to him. He thinks that he’s too obvious. He thinks everyone knows that he knows where James and Lily are. Sirius asks an old friend to be Secret-Keeper instead. He agrees.

Sirius is twenty-two, and his heart is in his mouth when he discovers Peter’s hiding place empty. Unsettled and anxious, he can’t think of anything except the worst. So he rushes to Godric’s Hollow, he rushes to the home of the people closest to him, and he finds it destroyed, and he falls to his knees. The tiny chance that they might still be alive is enough to get him up. It’s hard to look but even harder to breathe. He forces himself to go in, and he feels his heart stop at the sight of James’ body on the stairs. He’s shaking uncontrollably, an inhuman noise escaping his lips because he can’t be dead. Sirius is whispering _no no no_ over and over, walking through the home as quietly as he used to months ago, when he would come through the dog flap in the early hours of the morning and let Harry pat him to lessen his crying to the grateful smiles of his parents, but now, when his legs take him upstairs and he sees Lily’s still body on the floor next to the crib, he’s screaming. _  
_

Sirius is twenty-two and it’s all his fault. He’s staring at their bodies and crying apologies, stringing words together that don’t make sense. He can’t look at them, he can’t move. All he can say is _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault._  He's standing there sobbing, his hands trembling like they were the ones that held the wand. Harry’s crying is the only thing that brings him back. _It’s all your fault._

Sirius is twenty-two and all he can think is how stupid he was to trust Peter. He’s hearing James’ voice in his head, saying _never trust a rat_ , somewhere from a harmless joke years ago in their fifth year, but all he can hear is the good-naturedly way he said it and it’s everything Sirius can do not to scream. His throat is raw, his hands bloody from digging his nails into his palms.

Sirius is twenty-two and his chest is caving in on him and he can’t breathe. He feels his ribs splintering, breaking one by one, bone fragments stabbing into his heart. He’s consumed by grief and rage when he finds Peter after that night, and maybe that’s what gives Peter the upper-hand.

Sirius is twenty-two, and it’s over in a second. He doesn’t look at the twelve muggles lying motionless on the floor. Peter’s escaped, and Sirius feels everything die inside him. He laughs manically as he feels hands around his arms, and when he hears the accusations they throw at him, he laughs even harder.

Sirius is twenty-two, and he’s lost everything. He’s leaning against his cold cell wall, wishing he was dead. He thinks of Remus going to the funeral alone. He doesn’t want to cry because the dementors love that. _It’s all your fault._ He cries anyway.

Sirius is twenty-four, and staring at the bright, full moon through the cold bars of his cell. His heart hurts when he thinks about Remus transforming into a werewolf by himself, and he feels it break when he thinks about him turning back into himself, alone. Sirius wonders how much Remus hates him. He wonders how much Remus hates himself.

Sirius is thirty-four, and he’s caught sight of a picture in the newspaper that makes his heart freeze. He asks the Minister if he can have it and he gives it to him, and Sirius suddenly understands it all. He’s pieced it together how it happened in his head, and it’s slowly driving him mad. His blood is pumping at the thought of revenge, and after all these years, he finally is able to find the energy to escape.

Sirius is thirty-four, and he’s back in Hogwarts, the first home he ever really had, so close to killing the rat that killed James and Lily. He’s in the Gryffindor common room, and he passes the place where he sat next to Lily while she cried, and he steps around the couch he saw Remus asleep on more times than he could count and his heart aches for them all. Harry is sleeping in the bed that belonged to James, and for a second, Sirius believes it could be him. It’s the anniversary of their death, and he almost wishes Harry would wake up just so he could see Lily’s eyes again.

Sirius is thirty-four, and he’s in the Shrieking Shack, trying not to be suffocated by memories. His mouth fills with the taste of blood as he mindlessly bites the inside of his mouth. He’s watching the rat struggle against the hands of the red-headed boy with a glint in his eyes, his heart hammering with anticipation. He doesn’t care what happens, Peter has to die. He deserves to die. _It’s all your fault._

Sirius is thirty-four, and Remus is there. The scars have faded even more, but his eyes haven’t changed. Remus looks older, much older, but then again, so does he. It’s a few minutes before his arms are around him, but when they are, it's so familiar that he feels his heart ache with longing. Sirius feels his warm breaths of relief on his neck and the tear that’s escaped Remus’ eye, and they both feel their broken pieces growing back together.

Sirius is thirty-six, and he’s back at the house he grew up in. He doesn’t want to think about his brother’s empty room upstairs, or the horrible portrait of his mother screaming, always screaming at him, so he watches Remus as he makes his way around the kitchen. In another life, Sirius thinks, maybe they would’ve had it all. Maybe they’d have had those twelve years together. He doesn’t know, but when Remus looks at him, he’s wondering if Sirius still loves him like he still loves Sirius.

Sirius is thirty-six, and he’s happier than he should be when he has people staying in that terrible house with him. He puts away the alcohol that burns his throat when he drinks it and makes breakfast. It’s Christmas time, and he walks around the house singing carols while he pushes away the memory of him and James doing the same at his house during the holidays all those years ago.

Sirius is thirty-six, and his heart stops at the news of the danger Harry’s in. He rushes with the Order to save him without a thought. He doesn’t care for the Death Eaters around him. He gazes at Remus fighting alongside the others and smiles. _This time,_ he tells himself, _we’re all going to live. We’re all going to make it out alive._

Sirius is thirty-six, and he feels a cold burst in his veins as the green light that surrounded him a second ago starts to fade. He watches Harry’s face fall and then he sees Remus’ eyes behind him, and he sees the boy with the scars, small and vulnerable again like the first time they met, his eyes widening in shock, his breath knocked from his body. Sirius knows his isn’t the only heart that’s breaking.

Sirius is thirty-six and he feels the arms of his best friend catch him as he falls through the other side. He sees his face split into a grin as James mutters something about Sirius always being clumsy, and Sirius hears himself laugh, a sound so unfamiliar to him, but a sound James recognizes immediately. They’re both laughing, and when Sirius starts to cry, James cries with him.

Sirius is still thirty-six but it’s been two years. You don’t age when you’re dead, something James continues to gloat about. Twenty-one forever, he says, and he says that he’s sorry Sirius got old and Sirius tells him he’s sorry he didn’t.

Sirius is thirty-six, and hardly believing his eyes when he sees Remus again. His scars are faded, and he looks healthier, but he could have the shabbiest jumper on and scars all over him for all Sirius cares. Both of them are holding their breath, but he remembers they don’t need to breathe anyway. And then they’re both laughing and crying and holding each other so tightly, because they all have another chance at a different life. Maybe this time, they’d get it right. Maybe this time, they’d last forever.


End file.
